


Far Afield

by QuickedWeen



Series: Witch Harry [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Bride Lottie, Familiars, First Dates, Flirting, Florist Harry, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, Lottie and Tommy's Wedding, M/M, Magical Realism, Mutual Pining, SO MUCH FLUFF, Spells & Enchantments, Wicca, Witch Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 20:57:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9625076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuickedWeen/pseuds/QuickedWeen
Summary: Harry Styles is a witch who owns the best flower shop in Manchester. Lottie Tomlinson is planning her wedding, and brings her brother along to her first appointment. Both men have been having a bad day and sparks fly.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a prompt challenge that a group of us are participating in for the prompt "Cat". To read the other amazing fics that were written by the others on this prompt, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/cat/works) and to see all fics written as part of the challenge, you can [click here](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/2017_hl_prompt_challenge/works).
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone participating in this challenge!!! It has been so much fun and I am beyond grateful I was online the day that Sus got this idea!

Harry Styles owned a very ordinary flower shop, in a very ordinary building, on a very ordinary block in Manchester, but Harry Styles was not an ordinary florist. Harry was a witch.

Harry was not the kind of witch that rode around on a broomstick and wore a pointy hat. Instead, he was the kind of witch that tried to infuse a little bit of magic in everything that he did in order to make the world a better place. Anne, his mother, was a witch, as was his sister, as was their grandmother, going back many generations.

Somewhere along the way, one of their distant relatives had purchased the very same ordinary flower shop that Harry now owned and operated. The shop had passed down through the generations, and had only grown in popularity.

No one in the city quite knew why their shop, called _Far Afield Flowers_ , was so vastly superior in quality, but people kept going back, year after year. They were the most sought after florist in town, and business was booming.

Female witches tended to be much more powerful than male witches, and Harry’s sister Gemma was no exception. She was incredibly strong and powerful, both in magic, and in her professional life. She was a high powered executive on some kind of advisory council for a big corporation. Harry was never quite sure what she was supposed to be advising on, but he knew it was vitally important.

He preferred a much quieter life close to home. When his mother married Robin Twist, she decided Harry was old enough to take over the shop the way he always wanted to, and she began her retirement about twenty years early.

That was eight years ago, when Harry was a young, naive nineteen year old. His mother had stayed on part time for awhile to make sure he knew exactly how to manage everything, gradually handing the business over piece by piece. Now, she came in as she pleased, and helped during wedding season when he was especially busy.

When he took over the business, it was also natural that he would move out of his mother’s home into the flat above the shop. The quaint two bedroom space hadn’t been used for much more than storage, or visiting family members, for many years before Harry decided to update it and adopt it as his own. Their relatives had bought the building long ago, so rent wasn’t an issue, and it became home.

Witches of a certain age, usually those in their late teenage years, were much more likely to come across their familiar; the animal manifestation of their magic. There was no exact science to finding one’s familiar, but they usually arrived in some form or another when a witch truly settled into their personality and spirit.

Gemma’s arrived very early, on her fifteenth birthday, to be exact. Anne bought her a pet red-collared lorikeet, a beautifully multi-colored bird known for being playful and intelligent. Gemma had felt an awareness of the bird almost immediately when Anne brought her to the house. Anne thought she was buying her very responsible teenage daughter her first pet, and unwittingly brought home her familiar. It was Fate.

Initially, Gemma had wanted to name her Firebird, but it proved to be a mouthful. Harry was the one who first shortened it to F.B. which, after two weeks, became Phoebe. Harry, good natured soul that he was, was jealous Gemma found her familiar, but never begrudged her. He was thirteen years old at the time, and had to wait a long seven years before his arrived.

Harry was taking his university classes at night and online to finish his business degree, and used the back office of the flower shop to get his studying done. One morning, he had finished opening the shop, and decided to crack open a book about magic and its spiritual origins that he had picked up to learn more about his powers. Halfway through the chapter on the ancient Russian folklore surrounding familiars, Harry heard the telltale creak of the hinges on the very much locked back door.

Instead of an intruder, Harry found a six month old pure black kitten, and a still very much locked back door. The kitten walked in the shop with such confidence, it was as though she was coming back from just having stepped out. Before Harry knew what was going on, she had made her way to the main part of the shop and hopped up on the counter. Harry watched as she circled around, exploring her environment, before settling down in a curled up lump right next to Harry’s still open book.

Stunned, Harry sat back down on his stool next to her. He had been able to tell immediately that she was his familiar, he just hadn’t been prepared for her to arrive so casually.

He named her Amba, the old indigenous word for Siberian tigers in Russian mythology, lifted directly from the page he had been reading when she arrived. Amba settled into his life immediately. While Phoebe almost never left Gemma’s shoulder when she was at home, Amba almost never left Harry’s side ever. Harry rearranged the counter of his shop so he could set up a permanent bed for her in the same place she had settled upon arrival.

Unfortnately, Amba did not like to be touched by anyone other than Harry, or his immediate family, which was a problem with particularly pushy customers who didn’t understand that no meant no, and were reminded by her claws.

Now, at twenty seven, Harry had his family, his magic, his familiar, and his business, but he still felt as though something was missing.

 

\- - -  


“And we would like the bulk of the flowers to be peonies.”

Harry felt his smile strain at the edges as he tried to keep it fixed on his face, “I’m sorry, Madam. What did you say your flower budget was for the wedding?”

“Oh yes of course, our budget is five hundred pounds,” Harry’s hopes of fulfilling this bride’s wishes were falling by the second. Many people getting married had no concept of the cost of flowers, and consequently, the labor he would have to put in as the florist.

“Madam, I really am so sorry, but what you’re asking for is just not plausible. I would be willing to work with you on what substitutions you could make to cut costs, but we would only be able to use peonies sparingly. They are one of the more expensive options.” Most brides had no idea that the bouquets they saw of pure peonies in wedding magazines cost almost as much as a single bridesmaid’s dress. “One of the more popular replacements for peonies is ranunculus, they run at half the cost.”

“I couldn’t possibly compromise on this. It must be peonies. What will five hundred pounds get me?” The bride flipped her pin straight blonde hair over one shoulder as she looked to her fiancée for support.

“About three and a half bouquets.” Harry tried to be patient, he really did, but it felt as though lately all he was doing was churning out the same bouquets and centerpieces for women that expected the picturesque magazine aesthetic, and weren’t willing to listen to any kind of creative input from him. Everything was beginning to blend together.

Harry had magic on his side; the magic allowed him to match colors perfectly, and make sure flowers lasted well beyond when they should, and he made sure to infuse goodwill and commitment into every wedding bouquet and boutonnière he produced. Magic, unfortunately, did not allow him to conjure peonies out of thin air.

He had to be very careful when running his business. While Far Afield was the most sought after shop in Manchester and beyond, Harry had to make sure he charged the fair market price. He very easily could transform a rose into a peony if he wanted to, and that would allow him to slash his prices while still giving into demand, but it felt like cheating. The last thing he ever wanted to do was cast aspersions on his shop and his character, so he did his best to find a balance.

His now very offended bride had turned on her fiancée, no doubt to demand they allot more money for the flowers, and Harry heard the distant sound of the bell over the main shop door. Excusing himself, he poked his head out of the closed off consultation room. Standing by his potted flowers was a beautiful woman with bleach blond, yet silver toned, hair, much like his sister Gemma’s at the moment.

Harry cleared his throat to get her attention, “Pardon, didn’t mean to interrupt, but are you Charlotte Tomlinson?”

The woman smiled widely, eyes lighting up, “Yes, that’s me. I have an appointment.”

“Of course, I’m so sorry for the delay, but I’m just finishing up my previous consultation. Feel free to look around, I’ll be out again in a moment,” Harry was relieved at her open and friendly attitude, maybe the end of this day would pass quicker than anticipated.

“Thank you so much, and please, call me Lottie. It’s no bother, actually, my brother will be with me, and is running late.”

Brother? That was an odd choice for a florists’ consultation, but no matter. “Thank you, Lottie, I’ll be back shortly.”

Lottie nodded and returned to her inspection of the potted yellow tea rose bushes. Harry took a deep breath, and returned to his previous appointment.

Finally, after another ten minutes of back and forth negotiation, the woman agreed to come back again with a revised plan. Harry knew that meant she was going to go to one of his competitors to try and get a cheaper price. Unfortunately for her, while they were officially “competition” the majority of the other florists in town were his friends. They all used the same supplier, and tended to discuss their prices as to not give anyone an unfair advantage or monopoly. Everyone also tended to help each other out in a pinch. Harry very sincerely wished her luck and sent her on her way.

As she was packing up her materials, her fiancée opened the consultation room door, and Harry could hear a male voice float in from the front of the shop.

“What is this hipster-lite shit, Lottie? Come on, they’re not fooling anyone. They’re just acting pretentious so they can drive the prices up and try and cheat you.”

Harry’s mood blackened. So this was the brother who would be sitting in on his next consultation. A cynic, great. How original. Harry rolled his eyes behind the back of his previous clients.

He saw Lottie standing with someone else out of the corner of his eye as he walked the other couple out, but pointedly ignored them. Finally, the woman and her fiancée left, and Harry gave himself a moment before he greeted the new arrival.

Plastering a smile on his face once again, he turned towards where he had seen the siblings hunched together. They were still hunched together, but Harry had not expected the sight before him; soft medium brown hair, mussed, a neck with caramel colored skin just poking out above the collar of a suit, down a softly curved back which led down to a truly delectable arse in very nicely cut trousers.

Harry collected himself, trying not to look directly at the brother, and instead focusing his address on Lottie, “Are you ready Miss Tomlinson?” At that, the siblings sprung apart, and the brother turned to face the intrusion. He was, in a word? Gorgeous. In two words? Blindingly hot. In three? Harry thought; kill me now. On any other day, that wasn’t as shit as this one had been, this interaction would go very differently. As it was, Harry couldn’t forget what he had overheard, and he was irritated beyond belief.

“Yes of course, but I didn’t catch your name earlier,” Lottie smiled at him once again.

“My apologies. My name is Harry Styles, I’m the owner of Far Afield, the hipster-lite shit flower establishment you currently find yourself standing in,” Harry smirked. Lottie looked horrified that he had overheard her brother, so Harry opened his mouth to reassure her that he was just making a joke – his humor tended to darken with his mood – when a new voice popped up.

“Oi! What are you playing at talking to my sister that way!” The brother’s voice was lighter and raspier than he had expected.

Harry folded like a cheap paper plate. “I’m sorry, it was a bad joke, I’ve had a long shitty day, and this is the least professional I’ve ever been in my life, but you don’t know me, and I don’t take kindly to the implication that I’m out to cheat your sister.”

The brother’s eyes blazed, and it looked like he was ready to go another round, before Lottie intervened, “Boys! Alright. Calm down. Listen, Harry, Louis should not have said that stuff, especially not within earshot while you had other clients – I’m sorry, but is that a cat?”

Harry turned to where she was pointing, above his head and to the left, where he saw Amba perched on a shelf, hackles raised, clearly feeding off Harry’s defensive attitude. He inhaled and exhaled a few times to calm them both down.

“This is Amba, she’s the shop cat, clearly this conversation was more interesting than her tenth straight hour of napping.”

“She’s incredibly beautiful,” Lottie praised. Amba preened, and shifted her body around to swish her tail at her most complimentary angle.

“Does she ever eat the plants?” The brother, Louis, Lottie had said, piped up again.

“Lou! Are you fucking kidding? Stop it.” Lottie slapped a hand to her forehead.

“It’s fine, Lottie,” Harry did his best to smile reassuringly. “She only does when she manages to open the strongly sealed catnip jar.” At the word ‘catnip,’ Amba’s ears gave a slight twitch. “Don’t even think about it,” Harry chastened. Every time she got into the catnip jar, Harry managed to feel an echo of the side effects.

“Harry, this is my brother, Louis Tomlinson. I swear, he’s normally much more well behaved than this,” Lottie sighed, exasperatedly.

“Thanks, Lots,” Louis replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Shall we get started?” Harry gestured towards the consultation room, hoping to move along and end the appointment as soon as possible.

Harry could tell as soon as he met Lottie he was going to like her, but when they finally began to discuss her flowers, he was ecstatic.

“I don’t really care much about what kind of flower you use, but I had really been hoping to do a cool monochrome purple feel? All the reviews I’ve read about you say you’re an absolute wizard with color.” Harry gave a little chuckle at that.

Lottie continued to flush out her idea, and mentioned that she actively wanted different kinds of flowers to play with texture. She truly had walked into his shop with the most original idea he had heard in quite some time. By the end of the appointment, they were both speaking animatedly, bouncing ideas off each other, while her brother watched quietly with a small smile on his face.

When he finally walked them out, and locked the shop behind them, Harry was genuinely excited about working on her wedding and couldn’t wait to get started drawing up a proposal with some sketches and sample bouquets.

The next morning, after a good night’s sleep, Harry was feeling markedly better. Weekday mornings were traditionally slow, which meant he wouldn’t have many walk-ins and could squeeze in some phone calls. While he was on the phone with a vendor he heard the jingle of the front bell, but figured whoever it was could wait a few moments while he finished up.

After negotiating the price of a few buds down, Harry opened his notebook to take notes on the conversation. He learned early on to do this, so he could refer back when necessary, which prevented vendors from taking advantage of him, especially when he had still been quite young.

Halfway through his notes, he felt it. All of a sudden a feeling of intense warmth and security enveloped him from head to toe. The sensation was so overwhelming that Harry had to put his pen down and lean back in his chair to give himself over to it and wait for it to subside. The sensation wasn’t sexual, it was more comforting, Harry thought. He had never experienced anything like it in his entire life.

The feeling began to ebb a little, and Harry went in search of Amba. If he felt something so strongly it was a safe assumption that she was affected by it as well. Stepping into the main shop, Harry called out her name, “Amba! Where are you, darling?”

“I’m right here, honey!” joked a disembodied voice.

Harry jumped. He had completely forgotten about the front bell. There, in his shop, scratching under Amba’s chin, was Louis Tomlinson. Wait. He was petting Amba! Louis was touching her, and she was letting him.

Just then, he removed his finger from under her chin and began to push away from the counter. Clearly Amba was not finished with him yet, because she let out a pathetic mewl, and gave Louis’ wrist a nudge with the side of her face.

“Alright, little lady,” Louis laughed, before spreading out his hand, and dragging it from the crown of her head, down her spine, and all the way down her tail.

With that simple movement, the intensely warm and comforting feeling flooded Harry’s senses once again. Louis let his hand naturally fall off the end of her tail and float back to the crown of her head. Once again, he caressed down the length of her body, and Harry felt the effects.

When he moved to do it a third time, Harry couldn’t take any more. “Stop!” Harry screamed, too loud in the relatively small shop.

Louis jumped back, startled. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. She seemed to like it, so it seemed okay?”

Harry tried to gather his wits, “No. I mean, yes. It’s totally fine, I didn’t mean to react that strongly. She just doesn’t like to be touched very much.”

“Oh, that’s odd. She didn’t mind a minute ago. Cats, huh? Aren’t they funny?”

Harry’s laugh in response was weak and unconvincing. He and Louis stared at each other for a few heartbeats. Finally, he couldn’t stand it anymore; “What are you doing here, Louis?”

“Right, yeah. I actually came in to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I’m sorry I was such a shit. I had been having a bad day, and Lottie hasn’t been having the best of luck with her other vendors. The DJ tried to charge her way more than was acceptable.”

Harry was so confused about his and Amba’s reaction to Louis’ touch, he hadn’t even thought about their conversation yesterday. Something unclenched in his chest a little as he realised Louis’ apology did seem sincere. There was just one little loose thread. “Lottie made you come back, didn’t she?”

Louis started to look as though he wanted to deny the allegation, but realised resistance was futile. “Yeah. She made me. She’s impressed with you and stuff. I guess. But, I actually wanted to as well. I swear! I jumped to conclusions and you didn’t deserve that. Your shop is actually quite lovely, and I’ve only heard good things.”

“Louis, stop. It’s okay. I promise. I had a long day too, and I shouldn’t have come out and immediately pushed your buttons. I need to apologize as well.” Harry was glad they were being adults about this.

Now that the air had been cleared, he could truly admire just how attractive Louis was. Not that he hadn’t noticed before, he just hadn’t been in the best frame of mind to truly appreciate it.

“Thanks, Harry.” They had both apologized, and had officially run out of conversation topics. They could only stare at each other for so long now before it got awkward. It was bordering on that as Harry searched for something to say.

“So, Lottie is impressed with me?” Harry mentally cringed. He could have picked something a little less vain and self serving.

“Hah, yes, Harry. She was quite impressed. She’s incredibly creative, and so far everyone she has met with while planning this wedding has tried to feed her the same pre-programmed stuff everyone else does. It’s hard to watch, as a big brother.”

“Good for you for being so supportive. My older sister is too, she’s the best, but she isn’t around much.” Harry couldn’t help but admire Louis for how he was clearly trying to lift up Lottie and bolster her confidence.

“That’s a shame.”

“It’s alright. She is a very important person, which is fun to see as a younger brother. I’ve always looked up to her, as I’m sure Lottie does you.” Harry hesitated before his next question, “I’m sorry if this is intrusive, but where is her fiancée in this?”

“No, that’s alright. I can see how that would seem odd. Tommy, that’s her fiancé's name, he’s a great guy, he’s just angling for a promotion at work so he’s putting in a lot of hours, and that can make it difficult for him to come to the appointments. I have a relatively flexible schedule, so I’ve been able to come with her more often than not when he can’t.”

“Well, I’m glad she has someone. It can be difficult to meet with brides who are alone, because it’s a big decision. They need me to be the second opinion on what I’m offering them, which puts me in an awkward position.”

Louis laughed, crinkling the skin next to his eyes. Harry was trying very hard not to be endeared. “Speaking of my flexible schedule, I really should be getting to work. I’m sorry, I didn’t even stop to ask if you were open.”

“Not a problem. I am, I was just getting in a few phone calls before I started to get too many walk-ins.”

“Ah, right. Well, this shop is on my way to work, I’ve definitely seen it before, so I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

Harry nodded, and walked Louis to the door. “See you soon.”

  
\- - -  


_Oh, Ophelia, you’ve been on my mind, girl, like a drug…_

The Lumineers crooned through Louis’ headphones as he made his way out of his flat. There were a few different routes he could take to work ranging from about ten minutes to about eighteen. Lately, more and more, he had been taking the eighteen minute route.

He had been trying to get in shape, he wanted to look good for Lottie’s wedding in a few months, and it would improve his overall health. Definitely. That was the reason. It had absolutely nothing to do with the quaint row of shops he had to pass by. Sure, in that same row of shops he had found a new café that carried the specific brand of tea that he liked… Two doors down from his sisters’ cute florist.

Alright, he was lying to himself. He was totally smitten, and the culprit was one Harry Styles, florist extraordinaire.

_Oh, Ophelia, heaven help the fool who falls in love…_

He was pretty pathetic. He didn’t even know if Harry was gay. Based on their two interactions, the first of which he was definitely trying to forget, there was no conclusive evidence that he was, but there was also no conclusive evidence that he was straight, either. Their second conversation had been much better, but still mostly consisted of apologies on both their parts. No real way for Louis to work some flirtatious banter in there.

Harry had spotted Louis a few times while he was walking, usually while Harry was opening his shop, and they waved politely to each other. Over the last two weeks, the waving had started to get a little more frequent. Almost like Harry was waiting near the front of the shop for Louis to walk by. But, no, Louis wasn’t getting his hopes up.

Lottie’s follow up appointment was in a few days, and she would definitely need someone to go with her again, for moral support.

Louis’ heart started pounding a little harder as he rounded the corner of Harry’s block. No, not Harry’s block. Just any old block, nothing special.

As he neared Harry’s shop, he forced himself to stop and step into the café for his tea. When he was finally on his way to being properly caffeinated, he cast a sidelong glance in the café window and brought his hand up to fluff his fringe. Taking a breath, he replaced his headphones, to look casual, and began to walk again.

It felt as though he was holding his breath as he breached Harry’s portion of the block. Scratch that, he really was holding his breath.

The first sign of life he saw was Harry’s shop cat sitting in the front window. She seemed to spot him as well, and did a little turn, curling her tail around the support post of her shelf. Something must have alerted Harry to his presence, because his brow was adorably furrowed when he reached the door, almost as though he didn’t know why he was there.

His eyes lit up when he saw Louis and he gave a little wave. Louis smiled and waved back, using the pulse of his music, it had switched to an EDM banger, to push himself past the storefront. He would not feed this developing crush on Harry who may or may not be straight. He couldn’t fall for a straight guy; he would not do it.

  


Louis’ week passed liked molasses leading up to Lottie’s appointment. She hadn’t officially asked him to go, but it had been implied, hadn’t it? He went to the first one, granted he hadn’t participated much beyond making an ass of himself, but it made sense for him to go.

The morning of her appointment, she still hadn’t asked him, and he couldn’t stand it anymore, so he bit the bullet and gave her a call.

“Lou? Hey!”

“Hey, Lots. I was actually calling to ask what time I should meet you at Har- I mean, Far Afield?”

“Oh, that’s okay, Lou, Tommy can actually go with me this time, so you don’t need to come.”

“Right, yeah. Sure, of course. That’s great. Perfect.”

“Lou… What’s this about?”

“What? What do you mean? Nothing, I just thought you would need someone there, you know, like last time.”

“Come off it, Lou.” Louis waited a beat while he frantically tried to come up with a good excuse, “Oh my God! You have a crush on Harry!” Damn.

“No, I don’t! You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Hah! Lou’s got a crush.”

“Ugh. This was pointless. Go by yourself, what do I care.” Lottie’s cackle echoed as he pulled the phone away from his ear to hang up the call.

That was fine. He didn’t need to go anyway. There was no reason for him to go, and every reason for Tommy to go. He was the groom after all.  


 

Louis tried his best to not think about what Lottie and Tommy were doing at their appointment. Was Lottie being embarrassing now that she knew about his attraction to Harry? Probably. Did she like Harry’s arrangements? Would he be at the wedding? 

Who knew when this whole process started that he would feel so strongly about their flowers?

Which was why, later that evening, after Louis had heated up his bland frozen dinner, he strongly considered not answering the phone when he saw Lottie’s caller ID flash on the screen. Whatever she wanted to talk about could not be good.

On the other hand, he couldn’t not know what had transpired at the appointment.

“Hey, Lotts.”

“Well hello there big brother.” Yep, definitely not good.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing! I swear! I just had the loveliest chat with Harry, you know, my florist that you have a massive crush on?” She was going to taunt him until the end of time. He should know, she learned from the best.

“Is that so?” He feigned indifference, but he knew he was transparent.

“Oh yes. Apparently, he sees you in the morning on your way to work after you stop for tea. Which is funny, considering his shop isn’t on your way to work. Neither is your tea shop.”

“I found a new tea shop, much better than the other one.”

“Louis. You only drink one kind of tea.”

Louis panicked, “I don’t know the water is better or something.”

“Louis! You’re stalking my florist!”

“Am not!”

“Yeah, sure. Well, either way, he asked about you.” Apparently his twenty three year old sister had regressed to her thirteen year old self.

“He did?” Any attempt to sound apathetic flew out the window.

“He was wondering where you were, and why you didn’t come with me this time. Poor Tommy would have been insulted if I hadn’t told him ahead of time about the thing you had going on.”

“Charlotte! Are you broadcasting this to the world? Also, we don’t even know if Harry is gay, much less if he actually likes me of all people.”

“Louis. Be real, he’s definitely gay, and he definitely likes you.”

“Says you. Plus, I don’t really have an excuse to go there now, do I?”

“Funny you should say that,” Oh no. “I actually left my wedding binder there by accident. Be a dear? Pick it up for me?”

“Charlotte,” he warned.

“Yes, brother?”

“Innocence is not a cute look for you.”

“It’s a good thing you can’t see me, then.”

“Why? Why can’t you go?” Louis was definitely not panicking.

“I have to pick up the foundation for my wedding makeup trial in town, you know that.”

“No, no I don’t! Why would I know that? Why is this my life? You know he’ll know why I’m there.” That made more sense to him before he said it out loud.

“Whoopsies!”

“I hate you,” Louis deadpanned. 

“Bye, Lou!”

Louis groaned out loud in the privacy and solitude of his flat. He wallowed in his humiliation for another moment, before trying to come up with a game plan. He definitely had to pick up the binder, Lottie would never let him get away with not going to get it. But when? Did he go before work when they normally waved at each other? But, that could set a precedent of conversation every morning, and Louis wasn’t sure he could handle that much exposure to Harry.

He was just so beautiful with his lithe body and soft curly hair that just brushed his shoulders, not to mention his shiny green doe eyes. Being around him was like an adrenaline high; the more Louis experienced, the harder he would chase it. He knew himself. Louis banged his head against the arm of his sofa in frustration. Now what?

 

\- - -

 

It had been exactly twenty three hours and fourteen minutes since Lottie Tomlinson had left her wedding binder in the consultation room of Harry’s shop. Not that he was counting. Lottie had called him that morning to make sure she had actually left it there, and hadn’t lost it somewhere else. She had mentioned she would try to make it over there, but she may have to send someone.

Someone? Was ‘someone’ her fiancée? Or was ‘someone’ her very attractive, most likely straight, brother? No matter, it was probably Tommy the fiancée. Harry had met him the day before, he was a very nice young man. 

But it could be Louis, couldn’t it? In another sixteen minutes Harry had a follow up consultation with the “Must be Peonies” lady again. This would be her second follow up since her initial appointment. The day he met Louis.

Since that day, he noticed when Louis walked by on his way to work much more frequently. It was a wonder Harry had never seen him before. And he ‘noticed’ in the sense that Amba made sure to let him know exactly when Louis was walking by every single morning. His familiar was seriously obsessed, and Harry tried not to think too critically about what that meant.

Did familiars even have gaydar? Harry shook his head and went back to tidying up the shop. 

At twenty three hours and twenty seven minutes, Peony Lady walked in with her fiancée. At twenty three hours and twenty eight minutes, Louis entered. Harry ignored him while he got Peony Lady and her partner settled into the room, then excused himself to see to Louis.

He had locked up Lottie’s binder in the cabinet underneath the till, just in case it had any personal information in it. All he had to do was unlock it, and hand Louis the binder.

“Hi, Louis.”

“Hey, Harry. I’m not sure if Lottie told you, but she left her binder here.” Louis had his hands in the pockets of his trousers, hitching up the bottom of his suit jacket. Harry tried very hard not to imagine the view of his bum he could have had if he was only standing behind him. He was officially a letch. 

“Right, I’m sorry, but it’s locked up and I have this consultation. It shouldn’t take too long, it’s just a follow up. If you don’t mind waiting?” There was a special place in hell for liars and cheats, and Harry was a little of both at the moment.

“Of course,” he gestured to Harry’s chair that was semi-concealed behind the counter. “Do you mind if I sit?”

“Please. I’ll be back out in a moment.”

One moment turned into five before Harry felt it. That feeling. He had forgotten about leaving Louis out there with Amba unsupervised. This time, instead of the feeling being gone one moment and there the next, it built gradually until it felt stronger than it ever had before. 

Comfort and intimacy surrounded Harry until he was practically in a daze. It was a wonder he could finish the appointment with any kind of comprehension.

Fifteen minutes later he managed to show the couple the mock ups of the ranunculus designs, and at least had Peony Lady coming around to the idea of a substitute. She had indeed asked his competitors, and had been given the same answer Harry gave her originally. He would help her with her wedding, but she was the perfect client for him to foist off on his mother. Especially because her wedding would be at the height of the busy season.

The feeling had not abated, so after seeing the couple out, he turned on Louis, intent on asking him to kindly stop petting his cat. What he found instead made his insides melt. Louis had his feet propped up in front of him, and his lap had created the perfect hammock for Amba. She was curled up  in his lap in a little ball, as small and  round as she could make herself,  dead to the world.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat that had formed at the pure domesticity of the scene in front of him, “Well don’t you two look cosy.” 

“I’m so sorry, she just hopped up here and started to dig her claws in when I tried to move her. I know you don’t like it when people pet her.”

“Louis, stop. That’s perfectly alright, I was mostly concerned  about you. She has a tendency to attack the people that touch her.” 

Harry wasn’t sure where this mysterious connection between Amba, Louis, and Harry was coming from, but he learned from his mother at a very young age that magic works in mysterious ways. The best thing was to not fight it - the magic’s purpose would reveal itself in due time. Most likely Louis’ presence in his life would be important in some way. Harry knew what he hoped that purpose would be, but he had been wrong before.

“ These are interesting, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them before. Are they new?” Louis was still stuck in Harry’s chair, weighed down by Amba in his lap, but he had begun to look around and had spotted Harry’s witches ladders. 

Witches ladders were the most basic manifestation of physical spells and were formed as the caster tied a series of knots and talismans, such as feathers or beads, into pieces of twine. The caster would weave their specific desire or intent into the knots as they went. For children just learning to cast them there was a little rhyme that went along with it, but as a witch grew into their power, it became much more natural and instinctual.

Because Harry’s magic was so deeply tied to horticulture, he tended to weave flowers  into his . Different flowers had different meanings and connotations, so they were a natural choice to enhance the intent of the spell he was casting. He would  hang them up  around the shop and let the flowers dry naturally as the spell ran its course. 

Harry could feel the tips of his ears heat up as he tried to fight a blush and failed. These particular witches ladders were, in fact, new, and they all had one subject in mind. Louis. Harry had cast one with very precisely colored flowers placed to mimic the pride flag. To an observer, it was just a spectrum flower decoration, but Harry had cast it to try and determine if Louis was gay or not. So far, inconclusive. 

The next one was woven with Forget-me-nots and was fairly self explanatory. That had been the first one, which he had selfishly woven to try and encourage Louis to keep coming by after the first few mornings they saw each other. The rest continued along the same vein. They were mostly various well-wishes directed towards Louis and his family, he had even woven one for Lottie with her wedding colors.

“ Those are new, yeah. It’s just something I do with my spare time when there are extra buds and flowers that fall off their stems.”

Louis smiled up at him from his seat, “How lovely, Harry.”

The one of Forget-me-nots was the longest, long enough that the end fell just within arm’s reach. Curious, Louis reached his hand up to caress the flower bunch that was woven into the last knot. Harry recalled the nursery rhyme;  _ By knot of nine, what’s done is mine.  _ As the words played through his head, Louis’ hand slipped from the flowers to the knot of twine that housed them, and a visible spark of electricity flashed from the tip of his finger.

“Oh!” Louis exclaimed, startled. That in turn startled Amba enough that she abandoned Louis’ lap and hopped on the counter next to him.

“My god, Louis are you alright?” Harry rushed forward and gathered Louis’ hand in his to inspect it. He had never seen any kind of physical reaction to a witches ladder before. Granted, he had also never seen the subject of a spell come in physical contact with it before.

“ I’m fine, I promise. Just like touching a light switch  on a dry day ,” Louis chuckled. 

“ Are you sure? I’m sure I have some ice upstairs or something.” Harry was more worried about the magical side effects, and he thought maybe if he brought Louis upstairs he would be closer to his reference books and equipment.

“That’s alright. Do you live upstairs then?”

“Oh, yeah. I do. My family has owned the building for ages. It’s just easier I guess.”

“That makes perfect sense,” Louis lifted his eyes from where Harry still held his hand in front of him. It was then that Harry realised just how close they were sitting, and just how intimate it was to finally  feel  Louis’ skin against his.

H arry watched Louis’ pupils dilate, leaving just a hint of blue around the edges. There was no way he could be reading this incorrectly, Louis seemed to be just as affected by the closeness as he was.

“Um, Harry. I should probably get Lottie’s binder.”

“Right. Yes, of course.” Harry reached into his pocket, pulled out the key to the cabinet, and pivoted on his heel to retrieve the binder. “Here it is.”

Louis gaped at Harry open-mouthed, and Harry kept his eyes trained on the binder in his hand and braced himself for the reprimand. He had made Louis wait at least fifteen minutes for something that could have taken fifteen seconds, he deserved the calling out that he was certain Louis would provide.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me sometime?” Harry’s gaze snapped up to Louis’.

“What?” He must have heard wrong.

“Dinner. Would you like to go out with me?” Louis’ confidence seemed to be draining slightly, and it was then that Harry realised he was serious. Louis was asking him out.

“Yes! I mean, sure. That sounds nice.” 

“Okay. Well, are you free on Friday?”

Harry’s answering grin was wide and bordering on harmful to his cheek muscles, “Friday’s good.”

“Well, then. Um… thanks, for this,” Louis held up the binder once more as he backed towards the front of the shop, narrowly missing a bucket of fresh daisies, “and I will see you on Friday. Around seven?”

“Seven, definitely. See you then, Louis.”

“Bye, Harry.”

\- - -

  
“Hold on, so you're saying that you're reacting to when he touches Amba?” Gemma was curled up on Harry’s sofa, Phoebe on her shoulder, waiting for Harry to return from the bedroom with the next outfit option. 

“Yeah! It's the weirdest thing. I've never felt anything like it before,” Harry yelled from his bedroom.

“Well that's interesting. Have you asked mum about it?” Harry scoffed aloud in his closet, Gemma knew he hadn't asked his mum. The first problem was her being on on a cruise with Robin and most likely in the middle of the ocean. The second problem was, he rarely talked to his mum about the nonexistent boys in his life, and she would never let it go if she knew he was seeing someone.

He wasn’t even officially seeing Louis yet. It was just a date, it could be a complete and total flop.

Harry straightened his top, a black sheer number with embroidered flowers (he really did have other interests) over his nicest black jeans, pulled on his black velvet boots and headed out to where Gemma was waiting. Amba padded behind him, getting tangled up in his feet. She could sense his nervousness.

“No, I haven't told mum yet.”

“Why not? Also that outfit is a little on the nose don't you think?”

Harry shot her a look, “Gemma. You're not being very helpful.” 

“You look wonderful. Great. Very witchy. I'm more concerned about this weird magic.” 

“Is it too witchy? Mum isn't exactly available at the moment,” Harry reminded, as Gemma started fiddling with his clothing, “What are you doing?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Gemma, stop stuffing charms in my pockets! I told you no spell casting.”

“Technically, they're not spells.” He really hated how much of a smart arse she was sometimes. “I just really want this to go well for you. And you can use all the help you can get.”

“Gemma!”

“What? I think this guy is special, that's all.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Are you kidding? First of all, you're actually going out with him. When was the last time you agreed to a date?” 

“I went out with-”

“I'm not done yet! Second of all, this whole reacting to him touching your familiar has me intrigued. I've never heard of anything like it before,” she added as she attempted to pet Amba. Gemma performed the exact same gesture as Louis, starting at the crown of Amba’s head, gliding down her back and off her tail, and Harry felt nothing. Amba had only ever allowed Gemma, Anne, and Robin to pet her and remain unscathed, before Louis, that is.

“I’m sure it’s happened to other people, Gems.”

“If you say so.”

The buzzer for the front door echoed through the flat, and Harry started to get a little frantic. 

“Gemma, he can’t come up here, look at this place!” He gestured wildly around his sitting room to indicate the heaps of discarded date outfit options and various tomes and relics that were more than slightly outside the norm.

“Relax, Harry. You go on downstairs and have a lovely time. I’ll put this stuff away, and clear away anything that’s too obvious. I’ll feed Amba, steal some leftovers, and be gone by the time you get back. And when you bring him up, just distract him enough that he doesn’t pay too much attention to his surroundings.” Harry gave her a kiss on the cheek and raced down his front stairs.

When he opened the door for Louis, he was blown away. 

Harry had only ever seen Louis wearing a suit and tie going to or from work, so his soft dip-dyed jumper was a nice surprise. It was black at his shoulders, and faded to a beautiful deep burgundy, which he wore over black jeans as well. 

Louis’ hair was styled up off his face in a quiff in a way that displayed his cheekbones prominently, but what the style really set off, and made Harry’s insides turn to mush, were his eyes. Harry had noticed before how piercing of a light blue they were, but with no fringe in the way, they were practically phosphorescent. 

“Wow, Harry, you look gorgeous!” 

Harry felt the blush spread from his his ears down his cheeks and neck. He always seemed to be blushing like a school girl around Louis.

“You do too, it’s nice to see you,” Harry replied as Louis drew his body to him in a hug, and gave him a peck on the cheek. Harry could feel the burn of his touch blosom across his cheeks, and on both his biceps where Louis had placed his hands. 

“Shall we get going?” Louis presented his elbow for Harry to put his arm through, and began to lead him down the block.

Louis had chosen a small, intimate, Italian restaurant where the focus was on good food, good wine, and good conversation. As the night wore on they ticked all the boxes. Louis told Harry about his job managing the endowment of a university, and asked thoughtful questions about Harry’s business. Harry pestered him about the rest of his siblings, and it was clear, as soon as Louis started talking about them, that he loved them unconditionally. 

It was without a doubt, the best date Harry had ever been on, and he never wanted it to end. Sitting in the candlelit restaurant, he could see a real future with Louis; something he had never pictured with anyone else dated. He wished, for a moment, that his great aunt was still around, she had a small level of the sight, and had a great eye for matchmaking.

Harry knew that at some point he would need to talk to Louis about magic. It was inevitable, he just wanted to hold off for a little while so he could truly get to know Louis, and have Louis get to know him, before he dropped that bomb on their relationship. Or, what he hoped would be a relationship.

They completely lost track of time and ended up staying at the restaurant for three hours. Plenty of time for Gemma to clean up Harry’s apartment, and hide some of the most obvious magical paraphernalia. At the end of the evening, Louis insisted on walking Harry home. 

“You really don’t have to do that, Lou,” A thrill shot through Harry whenever he used the nickname. It had slipped out over dinner, and Louis seemed to like it, so he was dropping it more and more, testing it out.

“Don’t be silly, Harry, I want to,” he hesitated for a moment, “Also, I was kind of hoping I could come visit Amba? She’s the sweetest cat ever and so cuddly.” 

Harry barked out a laugh, and clapped his hand over his mouth to try and contain the sound. “Sure, Lou.”

Even though it was under the guise of seeing Amba, Harry’s heart was pounding as he invited Louis upstairs to his flat. He knew how he wanted this night to end, he could only hope that Louis was on the same page.

Amba had clearly been waiting for them. She sprung out from her hiding place to twine between Louis legs before he had even completely stepped inside the door. Harry braced himself for the feeling he had come to associate with the physical touch between Louis and his familiar. While it was there, it had abated slightly from the last time. Almost as though his own feelings about Louis, and Amba’s feelings about Louis, were reaching an equilibrium.

She let Louis pet her for a moment, but she quickly disappeared again, almost as though she could feel a shift in the air.

“Bye!” Louis called after her jokingly, “Will she be alright?”

“She’ll be fine. Gemma fed her earlier.”

“Your sister? She was here?” 

“Well,” Harry blushed again, “She was here helping me get ready.”

“Ah. Nervous, were you?” Louis teased, and Harry could only nod in response. Louis stepped closer, breaching the polite distance they had kept between themselves since the restaurant. “I was nervous too,” Louis breathed.

“Louis, I really like you. I just want you to know that.” As Harry was talking, Louis began to nod along with his words.

“Me too. I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I know it’s early to say that, but it’s true. It’s special.” Special. That was the same word Gemma had used earlier in the evening. It was the word that came to mind when Harry thought about the connection between Louis and the spells in his shop that gave him a shock, Louis and Amba, Louis and Harry. 

Overwhelmed, Harry did the only thing he could think of; he brought his hands up to cup Louis’ jaw, thumbs dragging over the rough stubble there, and pulled Louis to him.

When their lips came together, the feeling Harry felt whenever Louis touched Amba flared, strong and bright, and then settled deep into his bones, a low hum under his skin. Though Harry initiated the kiss, Louis took control of it almost immediately. He turned them around, still connected, backing Harry up against the front door. Harry felt surrounded by Louis, the taste, the touch, the smell, the heat – Louis, Louis, Louis. 

Louis pulled back only slightly, caressing the back of Harry’s neck, his fingers teasing underneath the tips of his curls.

Harry met his gaze, sure his own need was written all over his face. Normally, he would never rush into anything like this, but with Louis it felt like all his inhibitions had flown out the window.

“Stay,” Harry pleaded.

“Okay.”

\- - -

 

Saturday morning dawned, clear and bright, and Harry had never felt this kind of satisfaction before. It was as though his body was anchored to the bed, but if he got up he would simply float away on a cloud.

Louis made a small snuffling noise, and burrowed further under Harry’s duvet. Sleeping with him had been all-consuming. It was everything Harry had ever wanted, and nothing he expected all at the same time. The mechanics of it didn’t change all that much, but the way Louis had taken care of him, even now, hours later, it took Harry’s breath away.

Harry concentration on Louis’ face was broken by a tiny little black paw poking out underneath his bedroom door. “I’m sorry, can I help you?” Harry giggled.

“What? Haz?” The noise must have woken Louis up, because he was blinking his eyes against the early morning sun. Harry couldn’t help but lean down to kiss him. 

“Mmph – good morning.”

“Good morning,” Harry whispered against his lips.

“We both have morning breath,” Louis warned.

“Hmm… whatever will I do?” Harry licked the small patch of skin just under Louis’ collarbone, and then began to kiss his way down Louis’ torso. “I believe a thank you is in order for last night.”

“Don’t be silly, Hazza, you don’t have to thank me.”

Harry reached up and tapped a finger to his chin as though he was thinking it over. “Nope, I really do.”

Neither one of them said anything for awhile after that.

  


Eventually, after showering together, and finally remembering to feed Amba, Harry declared that he really did have to open the shop for the day. The weather was fairly nice, and it was a Saturday, so he had to be prepared for walk-ins. He expected Louis to take off, but he quickly realised that he needed to dispel any preconceived notions he had of Louis’ behavior. 

Instead of begging off, Louis offered to pop over to the café to pick up his tea, Harry’s coffee, and some breakfast for the two of them. After they were dressed, Louis in a spare pair of joggers and a much more casual jumper stolen from Harry’s closet, Harry gathered up Amba, and led them all down the back stairs to the office of the shop. 

As Harry began gathering everything he needed in his office, Louis began making his way to the door.

“Uh… Harry?” Louis sounded slightly alarmed, and Harry poked his head out to see what the matter was. He made his way through the displays until he was standing directly in front of him. 

“What’s the matter, Lou?”

“Your flowers are ruined! Or, at least, I think they’re ruined!” He exclaimed, pointing to a display in the middle of the shop. 

Harry took a closer look at what he was pointing to, and saw why he was so upset. All of the flowers, no matter what type, color, or stage of life, were completely and irrevocably in bloom. Harry’s flowers looked lively all the time from the spells he infused in the water, so that wasn’t what Louis was so upset about.

Every single flower in the shop looked as though the blooms had been tie-dyed, down to his pretty white calla lilies. It was as though they had changed colors multiple times, and then eventually tried to change into multiple colors at once. His jaw dropped, and his cheeks flamed when he finally caught on to what had effected them enough to do this.

“What is it? Are you upset? Do you have to buy new flowers? What happened?” Louis was so flustered on Harry’s behalf, and it was incredibly adorable.

Harry reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder, and draw him closer. “No Lou, I promise it’s alright. You go get the drinks and pastries, and I’ll start fixing this. I’ll explain when you come back.” He was glad he had the excuse of sending him for breakfast, so he could plan out how he was going to have this talk with Louis and not scare him off.

They were going to have the ‘witch’ conversation one way or another now, he supposed. He heaved a sigh as he set about changing the flowers back to their proper colors.

The ranunculus were giving him a hard time returning to their proper gradation when Louis returned from the café. Harry had made his way through about half the shop, so there was an odd array of normally colored flowers, versus their multicolored counterparts.

“What? How? How did you fix them?” Instead of answering what he was sure was the first of many questions, Harry ducked behind the counter to retrieve his chair, displacing Amba.

He set the chair down in the middle of the floor, and put a hand on Louis shoulder to guide him, until his weight dropped into the seat. Harry placed his tea and pastry on the display shelf next to him, and stepped back. 

“Haz? What’s going on?” Either sensing Louis’ distress, or purely for her own selfish comfort, Amba quickly hopped up on to his lap and curled into a ball, nudging her head against his free hand. He automatically began to pet her, which had the added benefit of calming Harry down as well. 

“Well, Lou, I was kind of hoping to ease you into this, but you saw for yourself what the shop looked like this morning, so I might as well rip the band-aid off.”

“You’re kind of scaring me, Harry.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to, it’s just, I’ve never told anyone this, aside from my family.”

“Told anyone what?”

“I’m a witch.” There. He said it. He watched Louis closely for a reaction, but none seemed to come.

“You’re a what?”

“A witch.” Louis’ brow furrowed at Harry’s clarification.

“You mean, like, pointy hat, broomstick, warts on the nose?”

Harry giggled, “No, Lou. I mostly do plant based magic,” he gestured around the shop, “See? Charms and things with plants. My power comes from nature. Also I’m pretty sure you would have noticed if I had flown to dinner on a broomstick, or had warts anywhere on my body.”

“Yeah, definitely no problem there,” Louis gaze turned lecherous momentarily. “So, you’re telling me you can do magic?”

“Yep.”

“Huh.” While Louis wasn’t exactly running screaming from the shop, he wasn’t really giving anything away either. Harry might as well get everything out in the open.

“And Amba,” Louis immediately halted his hand where he was petting her, and lifted it off her body. Sensing that the petting had stopped, she reached up and took a swipe at his hand, claws out, in an attempt to get him to continue. 

“What about Amba?”

“She’s my familiar.”

“Oh!” Louis’ eyes lit up in recognition, “Like from the Philip Pullman books!”

Harry wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to be patronizing. His eyes began to water from the effort of keeping it inside. “Kind of yeah. She doesn’t talk to me or anything. She’s just a companion who is more closely spiritually connected to me.”

“That makes sense. Is that why you don’t like it when people pet her?” He should have known Louis would be perceptive enough to pick up on that. He lifted his hand up, pinching his bottom lip between his finger and his thumb in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“No, actually. That’s all her, but, she actually really likes it when you touch her, and it kind of effects me? In a way.” Louis’ hand froze again. He resumed petting her much more quickly this time when she lifted her head in warning.

“Oh really? What do you mean it effects you?” Louis asked with a smirk on his face. Like he knew.

“Nothing like that Lou, that would be weird. No, it’s more like when you touch her, I just get this really comfortable feeling, almost like a warm bath? Or maybe being in bed under the covers is a better analogy.”

“Oh, well that’s nice. At least it’s a good feeling.”

Harry smiled down, “Of course it’s a good feeling.” This time, it was Louis’ turn to blush as he turned his face down and away towards Amba.

“Is that why all your flowers always look so beautiful and last so long?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.

Louis gasped dramatically, “Hazza! Cheater, cheater!” 

Harry held up his hands in front of him, “I promise I don’t make them last so long that it’s unbelievable! And I don’t charge any more or less for them!”

“I know, Harry. I’m only teasing. It’s a lovely thing that you do here. Think about all the people who get so much enjoyment out of a slightly longer lasting bouquet or arrangement. Everyone who gets flowers hopes they’ll last as long as possible.”

Harry rolled his lips together to stop himself from proposing to Louis on the spot. Louis may not realise it, but he had pinpointed Harry’s motivations almost immediately. He understood why Harry chose to keep doing this, when he could be doing anything else with his magic.

Louis scratched once more behind Amba’s ears, and then gingerly lifted her, trying to maintain her curled up position and deposited her in her plush bed on the counter. After she was safely ensconced in warmth once again, Louis turned back to Harry.

Bringing both his arms up around Harry’s neck, Louis guided Harry’s lips down to his. 

After kissing for a few moments, Louis pulled back slightly, “Thank you for telling me. I’m always excited to learn more about you.” 

With Louis’ acceptance, all of the tension Harry had been holding drained out of his body. It was such a strong feeling of relief, Amba must have felt it, because she let out a little mewl from her perch. “Is that why all the flowers were whacky colors this morning? Something to do with your magic?”

“Um, yeah, about that. It seems as though our activities may have been what made them change color.”

Louis threw his head back and laughed, and Harry’s head dropped into his hands. “Hey, none of that, it’s good to know you weren’t faking anything, at least.”

“I might have to get Gemma’s help putting a protection on my room. It will get annoying if I have to recolor every single flower every time we have sex.”

“If she’s protecting your room, she may as well protect the front door, too. And the shower,” Louis sounded very pleased with himself, “May as well do the whole flat.”

Harry gave him a little shove, “Alright, alright. Calm down. Want to help me open the shop?”

“Of course, love. Let’s have breakfast, and then we’ll get started.”

“Sounds perfect, Lou.”

  
\- - -

 

**_ One Year Later _ **

 

Louis brought Amba’s carrier to his chest as he climbed the front stairs up to the flat. Harry had been raving for the last few hours about negative energies and charms and trying to figure out what was wrong with her after a perfectly pleasant morning in the back garden. She had seemed perfectly normal to Louis, but Harry was insistent that they bring her to the vet immediately.

Harry had been right, of course. Amba had managed to get a tick, and the vet commended them on how quickly they responded, considering they hadn’t actually found the tick on her body yet.

As soon as they were in the flat, and her carrier was opened, Amba took off running, clearly upset with them for the traumatizing visit they inflicted on her.

Harry collapsed on the couch, opening his legs so Louis could lie down between them.

“Well, that was an eventful day,” Louis said as he lay down on top of Harry chest to chest. Louis felt Harry giggle underneath him as he brought his arms up, hands gliding across his back for a moment before landing on his bum. “You know you really should look into buying instead of renting, your hands are there so much.” Louis froze when he realised just how his rather poorly constructed joke could be perceived.

“You proposing to me Lou? So romantic.” Harry joked right back. Louis let out a small huff of a laugh. He fully intended on proposing to Harry, but the ring hadn’t come in from getting resized yet, and he didn’t want to blow his cover.

“Hey we’re even all glittery for the occasion!” Harry’s finger tip grazed down Louis’ arm, over the glitter he never seemed to be able to wash away. Harry loved to make homemade bathbombs infused with different spells. The night before he had done one that was laced with an aphrodisiac, which had ended up being mind-blowing. Unfortunately, he also loved to lace them with glitter.

“Why do you insist on putting glitter in them, Hazza. I find glitter in all of my nooks and crannies for weeks after.”

“I know,” Harry responded smugly, as though that was precisely the reason he chose to do it in the first place. Thoughts of the glitter led directly into thoughts of a naked and soapy Harry. It was such a tempting image, he leaned up and began to plant kisses along Harry’s neck, hoping to bring him up to speed.

“Do you have any more of that kind that we used last night? That was amazing.”

“Mmm… Lou. It was. I only made one, but I have a different kind you may like.”

That was all the motivation Louis needed to get up off the couch, pulling Harry with him, as he directed them towards the bathroom, and their big claw foot tub. Thankfully, his boyfriend could warm the water naturally, because otherwise their water bill would be astronomical.

It wasn’t until he drew back the curtain to start the water that he saw Amba, innocent as could be, sitting in the middle of the tub, black fur completely covered in glitter.

“Oh, my baby girl. Oh no!” Louis’ cries, and subsequent howling laughter, brought Harry running.

“What, what happened?” Harry panted. Louis could only point, still laughing hysterically, at Amba’s serene pose on the floor of the bath.

“Only you, Harry Styles, could possibly have a familiar that gets so easily covered in glitter.”

Harry laughed with him as he bent down to pick her up, cuddling her to his chest, depositing even more of the glitter on his own skin.

Louis leaned up to give him a kiss, shaking his head at the scene in front of him. 

Witch and familiar. His home.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed it you can find the fic post [here](http://becomeawendybird.tumblr.com/post/156982155111/far-afield-by-quickedween-chapters-11-words).
> 
> Please come say hello!


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